Waterworks
by Rasberry Parfait
Summary: Water is the one substance from which the earth can conceal nothing; it sucks out its innermost secrets and brings them to our very lips." BenAbi, PatrickEmily, RileyOC, possible IanOC-not the same OC-depending on reader preference. Post BOS.


Disclaimer: I don't own National Treasure. Wish I did, though.

* * *

"I mean, can you believe that? Man..."

"Shut up, Randy," Ian snarled. A flash of hurt crossed Randy's face and Ian sighed and mumbled an apology.

"Leave him alone," Clara scolded him. "He just lost his father. He's not wrong to be ticked at the guy that killed him."

Ian didn't mention how unlikely he felt it was that a man who refused to steal a bloody old piece of paper would be willing to kill someone in cold-blood as both Clara and Randy seemed to believe. After all, they'd just broken him out of jail, and could easily put him back whenever they so wished. His fate really was in their hands for now, and he hated that. _He _liked being in control. Even with Ben's treasure hunt-Ben may have been the history expert, but Ian was the money. Really, Ben had been nothing without Ian. Or so he'd thought. Hence the necessity of his escape from jail.

He sighed again and turned to the window, watching the scenery flash before his eyes. He'd missed that, he realized with a jolt. Odd. It always used to make him carsick. _Jail makes you too sentimental, _he decided. He heard Randy start going off on something else in the back of the van, but ignored him. Randy talked too much, anyway. He was worse than Ben's girlfriend.

* * *

"Alright," Ben sat down. "Who knows why we're here?"

"Because they have good burgers?" Riley guessed.

Abigail sighed.

"Ben, we asked you what was going on the entire way here. You know that we have no idea what's going on.

"Is this about Page 47?" Riley asked eagerly.

"Correct," Ben said, satisfied.

"Then why couldn't you answer me in the car?"

He didn't respond.

Ben had been increasingly secretive in the days following their discovery of Cibola. He would spend hours on end in the library in he and Abigail's house, rushing anyone out who dared to come in. And now he'd driven them to some burger joint downtown, of all places, to tell them...what?

It looked as if they were about to find out.

Before Ben could elaborate, a tall, thin girl with dark hair pulled back sloppily in a hair clip stepped up to their table and blew a bubble with her gum.

"Hi, my name is Kira, I'll be your server today," she said unenthusiastically, handing them all menus. Abigail and Ben started flipping through them while Riley eyed the waitress carefully. He wasn't sure why, but her presence made him uneasy. He didn't trust her. She looked over at him suddenly, brown eyes narrowing. She wore a lot of makeup.

_She has the crazy eyes! _Riley realized frantically.

"Yes?" she asked, clearly irritated.

_Crap crap crap crap crap! Ah...say something. Now! Anything!_

"So, how do spell that?" Riley asked finally. "I've seen it with an I and with a y...and sometimes with an h at the end..."

She turned her "crazy," heavily lined eyes on him. "It's K to the I-R-A." She deadpanned. "For more information, check the _nametag."_ A black-painted finger tapped the nametag twice, once for each syllable in the last word of her sentence.

There was an awkward pause in which Kira-with-an-I blew another bubble.

"I'll be back in awhile to take your order," she stated before walking away.

"I don't like her," Abigail decided.

"Why not?" Ben asked. Not that it wasn't obvious, but he knew she wanted to be asked.

"She's rude," she answered simply.

"She doesn't seem too friendly," Ben agreed mildly.

"She's got the crazy eyes, too," Riley added.

Ben rolled his eyes.

"As it turns out, page 47 it involves half of a tablet found in the Red Sea."

"The ten commandments?" Riley guessed.

"No."

"Oh...half-the _five _commandments?"

"No."

"Six?"

"No." Ben continued before Riley could ask if it was four. "They kept it a secret because it spoke about what scientists believe is a clean power source that could put a stop to Global Warming."

"Why would they keep that a secret?" Abigail questioned.

"Because they only had half of it. While they were able to translate the part about the clean power source, the rest of it-the other half, telling about where one might find this clean power source-was lost. They didn't want to bring down morale."

"Ah. Trying to keep us looking up...at the smog clouds," Riley noted.

"If it's incomplete, then why are you telling us this?" Abigail asked.

"Because. The other half of the tablet was found."

"When?"

"Around a year ago," Ben said happily, leaning back in his seat as he waited for the other two to guess.

Abigail and Riley glanced at each other uncertainly, and then it clicked.

"The Knight's Templar," Abigail said quietly.

"Exactly."

Right on cue, the waitress came back, still blowing her gum.

"So...what can I get for you?" She held up her notepad, holding a pen to it.

"What would you recommend?" Abigail asked, attempting to remain civil.

Kira scoffed. "I'm supposed to say whatever the most expensive thing on the menu is, but honestly, the only thing that doesn't nauseate me is the French fries. And the milkshakes."

"Milkshakes?" Riley repeated. "Eh. I'll take an order of fries,"

"What's wrong with milkshakes?" Kira asked suddenly, arching an eyebrow.

_How does she do that? With only one eyebrow..._Riley wondered. Now that he knew he could hold a conversation with her, she wasn't nearly as intimidating. _Ha. Take that, scary waitress kid._

"What?" he asked, still mulling these thoughts over.

"I dunno. You sounded all condescending about milkshakes. And I'm like, 'dude, it's ice cream without the hassle of a spoon. What's not to like?'"

"What? I didn't say I didn't like milkshakes, I'm just not-"

"And we'll take the appetizer platter," Ben interjected.

Kira scribbled down their orders. "One order of fries...one appetizer platter...and one vanilla milkshake, on the house." she said pleasantly, flashing him a red-painted smirk. She didn't say it out loud, but her expression conveyed the rest of the message perfectly clear. _Just to tick you off. _

Before he could respond, she turned and walked away again.

Ben turned to his wife, whose jaw had dropped, and then to his best friend, who was already standing up.

"Yeah, well, you wear too much makeup!" Riley shouted after her.

Kira didn't answer. In any case, it was probably true.

Riley sat down and waited for Ben to continue. When it was clear he wasn't going to, he spoke up. "So? Where is it?"

"I have no idea."

"But let me guess," Riley said sarcastically. "They left clues in the tablet?"

"Anything's possible," Ben grinned.

None of them noticed someone watching them from across the room.

* * *

_So what if I wear-Oh my Gosh. Those people look like they're spying on someone. I wonder if they work for the FBI? No. Because they wouldn't be conspicuous. Hm..._

It was people like those at table twelve that made Kira feel her job wasn't so bad.

The two of them hid behind their menus-a middle-aged blond guy and a boy who looked a little younger than herself with dark, curly hair. _They don't look related, _she noted. _I wonder how they know each other? Maybe he's his stepdad. Ooh! Or maybe they ARE FBI agents! And the older guy has to train the younger guy! No. NO. That's stupid, I ripped that off of Men in Black. But then..._

"Hello," she stepped up to the table as she blew a bubble and popped it. "Can I take your order?"

"Not right now, thanks," the older man said, barely glancing at her. _Is he English or Australian? _Kira followed his eyes across the room to another table. The one with the blond who kept giving her the stink eye and the two guys other guys. _Maybe she's a pimpette,_ she thought gleefully. _Why are these guys spying on them though? I bet it has to do with drugs..._

The boy looked up.

"Um, yeah, I'll have the-"

"Randy," the man warned before turning to his subjects once again.

"But I'm hungry," Randy whined.

"Randy. You're nineteen years old, right? So why do you act like you're seven?"

"I don't-"

Kira decided to interrupt their argument while she could. She would much rather have let their argument escalate as far as it would, but she still had work to do, and her boss was-well, he wasn't looking for a reason to fire her-if he was, she would have been gone before the breakfast rush-but he was starting to get suspicious, in any case. And as much as she detested it, she needed this job.

"Yeah, listen, guys. Not that I want to break up your espionage parade or anything, but I'm supposed to kick you out if you don't order anything."

The man glared up at her and set his menu on the table.

"I'm sure you can make an exception in this case," he said, clearly irritated.

Kira put a hand on her hip. "Yes, I'm sure I could. If I wanted to. But I don't like people. And you especially irk me. So I don't think I will."

"You don't like people? Then what a smart career choice." Randy smirked.

"It's not a career!" she snarled. "It's just something to-why am I telling you this? Order or get out!"

"Here," the man handed her a wad of cash. "Bring me something. Anything. I don't care what."

Kira took a look at the money in her hand. "Thank you for your patronage," she smirked at him before walking away, stuffing a few hundred dollar bills into her pocket.

The man spared her a glare and one though before turning back to his previous post, watching the people across the room. _Annoying little..._

_* * *_

_...Clown-faced punk. _Riley glared at the milkshake as the waitress walked away, having successfully delivered their food and instigated another argument with Riley, this one involving "Footloose." Riley had won, but he was still ticked. Getting free food had never been a bad thing before; anyone who could make it so would have to be someone who had crossed to the Dark Side and been there for sometime.

"Riley? Hello?" Abigail snapped her fingers in front of is face. Riley jumped back to the present.

"You with us?" Ben asked, half-sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah. I was just thinking about-"

"About what?"

"Just about how annoying that waitress is."

"Fine, then we won't leave her a tip. Can we focus here?"

"Sure." Riley shoved the milkshake a few more inches away. "On what?"

"On plans, Riley. On plans." Ben gave a frustrated sigh. The usually calm treasure protector didn't _like_ having this unofficial meeting put on hold. He was on a roll here.

"Fine." Riley gestured for him to continue. "You were saying?"

"I was saying that we fly to New York to talk to Robert Sheridan, a museum curator."

"Oh." Riley paused. "Why?"

"Because he has access to the other half of the tablet. I have a photocopy of the first half here," he set a file folder on the table.

"Huh," Riley muttered as he and Abigail looked through the photocopies. So that was the manila envelope Ben had obsessed over the day before.

"Why don't you just ask Sheridan for photocopies? I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Abigail suggested. Ben coughed.

"Um...because, it's always better when-"

"Because Ben likes museums." Riley interjected.

Abigail shrugged. "Good enough."

"I'm glad we all agree. So. I was thinking we leave tomorrow night?" Ben asked.

"Don't you think that's a little soon?" Abigail said, raising her eyebrows.

Ben looked at Riley, who shrugged. "Not like I've got anything better to do," he said.

Ben turned back to Abigail, who sighed.

"Alright," she said.

"Great. Then it's settled. Riley, we'll pick you up tomorrow at eight."

"Wait, how do you-you already have the plane tickets, don't you?" Abigail accused. Ben grinned sheepishly at her in response.

She facepalmed.

"Wait, why can't I drive?" Riley asked.

"Because your driving is dangerous," Ben said matter-of-factly, standing up leave.

Riley scowled.

* * *

"Shut _up_, Tibby, I'm going as fast as I can! GAH!"

Kira finally opened the bag of cat food and poured some into a bowl. She set it on the floor.

Tibby walked up and sniffed at it before walking away.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you wanted canned food? Tough crap, cause we don't always get what we want!" With that, Kira stalked into the living room, snatching a hairclip off the counter. She clipped her still-wet-from-the-shower hair back, save for her bangs, and flopped onto the couch, rubbing her temples.

_I have a headache. _

_You always have a headache. _

_I should clean the apartment. _

_You never clean the apartment. _

_...Then what should I do, smart one?_

_Guitar?  
Broke a string, remember?_

_Oh, yeah. You should get new ones. _

_I will tomorrow. _

_You will now. _

She opened her eyes and glanced down at herself. Black basketball shorts and one of Alyssa's tank tops.

_Dunno if I'm dressed for the occasion,_ she thought sarcastically.

_True. And you smell like alcohol. _

_You'd think Alyssa never washes her clothes. _

_You smell like coffee, too. That's not Alyssa's clothes, though, that's just you. _

_Hm. Coffee. That sounds good. _

_Good enough to get up for?_

_Eh...yeah._

She stood up and picked her way through the messy apartment over to the tiny vanity table in the corner.

_Gosh, you look like a prostitute. _

_I do not. _

_If you stood on a street corner, I bet people would come up and ask-_

Her internal conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Her hand jerked in surprise and smeared lipstick up to her nose.

"Go away!" she screamed. Whoever was on the other side just knocked harder. She sighed and got up, wiping the the excess lipstick off on her hand while she picked her way to the door, finally yanking it open when she reached it. She frowned, confused, as she took in the sight of three menacing-looking men outside her apartment. The one standing front and center, she recognized after a moment, from that day at the restaurant.

"Rich stalker man?" she asked, more than a little confused. Sighing, she shook her head. "Look, I'm not interested in anything you're selling. Unless it's coffee. If it isn't, then sorry, I don't speak English." She made to close the door, the blond man caught it.

"Sorry," he said, giving her a charming smile. "I don't mean to disturb you. May we come in?"

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Well, you are disturbing me, despite the fact that I'm doing nothing, because doing nothing is, in fact, more important than this conversation, and no, you may not come in." Again, she tried to close the door, but the man caught it again, more forcefully this time.

"Fine," he snapped. "It's too bad you couldn't have cooperated. If you had, this may not have been necessary." The men behind him pulled out guns at what must have been the blond man's signal. Kira glanced between them and opened her mouth to scream before the man who was clearly in charge shoved his hand over her mouth forcefully, his other hand moving to the back of her head. He glared at her.

"One sound and they shoot," he warned, jerking his head back at his companions. Kira shook her head quickly, trying to break free.

"Ah ah ah," he said softly. He had a maniacal sort of smile on his face. "We wouldn't want blood on that pretty face of yours, would we?"

Kira closed her eyes in response, tears beginning to pour out of them. _I'm about to die. Crap. Crap. Crap. _

"Are you going to answer our questions, or not?"

She shook her head harder. All she could think was that she needed to get free.

"Fine," the man shrugged. With that, he slammed her head into the door frame, and everything went black.

* * *

"That was...a little harsh," Jackson noted.

"It was necessary," Ian said simply, letting the insufferable girl fall to the floor. "She'll live."

Jackson looked over at his brother and shrugged as Ian walked away. As soon as he realized he wasn't being followed, he turned around.

"What are you waiting for? You don't think she has neighbors?" he asked incredulously. "Pick up the girl, one of you."

Jackson sighed and bent down to pick the girl up Bridal Style. Yes, he wanted to avenge his brother; yes, he wanted Gates dead. But this girl hadn't done anything to them, really.

But then again, he noted fairly, like Ian said...

She'd live.

Just as he thought that, a black cat shot out of the apartment, hissing madly.

Jackson wasn't a superstitious man, but he thought later that perhaps he should have taken it as an omen.

* * *

A/N: Yup. That was the chapter. If you were wondering, the quote in the summary was Jean Giradoux.

On Kira: Obviously, I don't want her to be a Sue, and I've taken great pains to keep her away from that, but reading this, I realize that she could come across as such. Just know that black nail polish and studded belts are only the icing, the details for realism. They are not main components of her character there is a lot more to her than that.

On Pairings: BenAbi and PatrickEmily are mostly implied/accepted/mentioned; this story doesn't focus on those pairings all that much. I do plan on adding in a few cute Ben/Abi moments though. It'll also be RileyXOC. I may add in hints of IanXOC (I.E., IanXRusty) should the readers prefer it.

Lastly, please, please, _please _review. I would love to know what you all think about the first chapter!


End file.
